Which is your favourite piece of music by Mozart? | Classical-Music.com Rating: 0 To mark Mozart 's 260th birthday today, we ask 10 top performers to tell us about the great composer's works that inspire them the most. Sir Neville Marriner (conductor): Requiem The fact that the Requiem was unfinished by Mozart has always rather touched my imagination. Amid the chaos of his life, the destitution and the pressure of his operatic obligations, harassed by overwork and gravely ill, he produced music of such intensity – that he left it incomplete makes it all the more affecting. With the day of judgment, hope for salvation and so on expressed in somewhat austere operatic idioms, it is music of such dynamism that you can understand its place in the heart of most Mozart lovers, and ultimately forgive those composers and editors that have tried to become part of this work with their additions and subtractions. The fabric of the work is the essence of Mozart. Julia Fischer (violinist): Piano Fantasy in C minor All the minor key pieces show the real drama of Mozart. It counts for Don Giovanni, the G minor Symphony No.

40, the second movement of the Sinfonia Concertante for Violin and Viola, the A minor Piano Sonata. For me, Mozart’s C minor Piano Fantasy is a fantastic example. He’s the only composer who changes so dramatically when you go to minor. Schubert is very sad in major keys while Beethoven can be very dramatic. When Mozart starts a piece in a minor key, you know it’s going to be a talk to God – something very philosophical. It makes me sad all his violin concertos are written in major keys. Dame Mitsuko Uchida (pianist): Piano Sonata in C minor The C minor Piano Concerto, K491 has such a mysteriously, bleakly dark grandeur. The Concerto has the entire set of winds and he uses their different emotional colours extremely cleverly. That bleakness in the first movement comes from the flute, which gives me shivers every time I hear it, while there are those wonderful, almost warm-sounding clarinet sections in A flat major in the slow movement and then – the most amazing moment after all the darkness – the way the C major variations begin in the oboe in last movement.

To me, it’s clear he wrote the Concerto’s opening by twisting around the opening of the Fantasy in C minor – it is so haunting and shocking. The whole piece is so inspired. Sir Thomas Allen (bass-baritone): The Marriage of Figaro I could choose dozens of works, but The Marriage of Figaro probably inspires me most. It’s an extraordinary piece which moves from one glorious moment to another and is also such a complete artistic entity. The study of the characters within it is lifelong – you can explore them again and again and always come up with variations in the results, partly depending on the chemistry of who’s involved in each production. Aside from the two great baritone roles of Figaro and the Count, Susanna is so richly drawn, and the study of the countess – her greatness, her sadness and the reassurances that she needs – is extraordinary. It isn’t just a comic work, either. There’s also a tragedy and depth to the premise of its plot, too.

Barbara Bonney (soprano): 'Et Incarnatus Est' from Mass in C minor The most obvious choice for me would the ‘Et Incarnatus Est’ from the C minor Mass – it’s one of the hardest pieces that he wrote because it demands so much tranquillity and so much sense of confidence. It’s really a very naked stand-out-there-in-front-of-the-audience piece – you have to really sing it like an instrument. But it’s also one of his most beautiful pieces, very much like ‘Ach, ich fühl’s’, Pamina’s aria from The Magic Flute. It’s very bare and very gentle and open and there’s nothing to hang on – except your nerves! You have to have very good control of breath and pitch. It’s a tour de force in a very sweet and lilting way. Imogen Cooper (pianist): String Quintets When I first heard the String Quintets I was completely blown away. They have remained a central inspiration for my own Mozart playing since – the G minor, C major and particularly the D major. Hearing the slow movement of the D major Quintet, a wonderful movement in G major, I thought I’d died and gone to heaven.

I’d never heard such perfection. That can sound a cold, arid word. But he’s not that – Mozart is a mixture of humanity and divinity. It’s sort of god-like but it’s completely human in that there’s every emotion. There’s wit, humour, naughtiness, grief. But these are only words. What is behind it is just… well, you see, I’m lost for words. Sir Roger Norrington (conductor): Idomeneo I find Idomeneo very inspiring – after writing several operas as a boy, including Mitridate, Mozart suddenly started writing one as a man. He’d certainly grown up in the intervening years – he’d lost a good friend or two, he’d lost his mother in Paris. He’d also got away from his dad. So he was on his own, and he was free, and he started composing in an extraordinarily creative and new way. He learned so much about writing opera and now he’d learned so much about himself – and he poured it into this piece. It’s a very special opera – with the revelation of the human heart from each character in turn and then together in a fantastic quintet in the last act. It’s an amazing moment.

It’s an opera that makes you sit up from the word go and tells you so much about human nature, almost as if Mozart was saying ‘yes, I know what to do now – I’ve got it.’ Andrew Manze (violinist & conductor): Symphony No. 41 'Jupiter' I first heard Mozart’s Jupiter Symphony (No. 41) as a boy and always enjoyed it. But then I conducted it for the first time. I’d prepared the score, knew it very well, rehearsed it well too… and then in the concert it just hit me what an incredible piece this is – that finale with the fugue going on and all the melodies combining at the end. I was almost in tears because of the power, the perfection and the humanity of the music. In conducting terms, I was almost speechless. You can appreciate Mozart, admire him, study him, perform him a lot, but in the end there’s something about his music that just goes beyond words and analysis. It hits you deep down, in a place not so many composers can reach.

Jane Glover (conductor): Cosí fan tutte Like being asked ‘What is your favourite play by Shakespeare?’ it is almost always the one that you have most recently seen. However, I would have to say Cosí fan tutte. Out of all the operas and indeed, all of Mozart’s music, it is the one that does still constantly uplift, inspire, amaze and challenge me. Certainly in performance, but also when listening to it too, it still moves me to heights that are completely stratospheric. As a performer, my most memorable concert was of the Requiem – at midnight, 5 December 1991, the 200th anniversary of Mozart’s death, I conducted the London Mozart Players at St Paul’s Cathedral. It finished at 12.50am, exactly when he died. That was an extraordinary event. Jonathan Cohen (conductor): The Marriage of Figaro You have to head to opera to distil everything that Mozart is about, so I’d choose The Marriage of Figaro. As one of the great melodists of all time, Mozart had an incredible theatrical nature that you can see in the operas and chamber music.

This opera is the epitome of that – there are characters in the orchestra pit as well as on stage. Everyone’s running around fast and having fun. Mozart had some difficult times in his life, but when he’s happy, there’s no one more joyful. When I seriously studied The Marriage of Figaro, I started to appreciate its brilliance. To sit down and get inside a piece like this is a beautiful moment. This article originally appeared in the January 2011 issue of BBC Music Magazine January 13, 2014 by Dr. Orlando A. Mansfield It is unquestionably interesting, although occasionally somewhat irritating, to observe how many musicians, often of premier rank, fail to receive adequate credit for some of their most remarkable characteristics or activities. This is especially the case in regard to their knowledge of, or performance upon, keyboard or orchestral instruments; many composers being credited as special performers on instruments to which, in many cases, they were not particularly partial; while, per contra, many distinguished musicians have failed to received proper honor for the understanding and mastery of the very instruments in which they were most interested.

Taking as our first example the case of the violin, it must be obvious to all our readers that no great violinist or violin composer could appear before the second half of the 17th century; as it was not until that period that the Cremona school of violin manufacture, headed by Nicolo Amati, and his pupils – Guarnieri and Stradavari – came into being. Only with the improved instruments could there arise the really great performers thereon. The man in this case was Arcangelo Corelli (1653-1713). As the greatest composer of his age, of music for stringed instruments, he is justly recognized; but many fail to realize that, as a performer and teacher, we have in Corelli the founder of a school which, as developed by Somis, Pugnani, Viotti, and Baillot, practically created the art of violin playing as we have it today. Nor is the worth of Corelli’s music to be discounted by the fact that, although considered at the time of its production to be of almost insurmountable difficulty, it is now deemed suitable for comparatively elementary students.

And although we may all know the story of Corelli’s inability to execute to Handel’s satisfaction that irate master’s overture to Il Trionfo del Tempo, in which occurred passages involving the 7th position while Corelli’s technique ascended only to the 3d; yet, like his works, his violin playing, as Paul David remarks, “not only hindered a threatened development in the wrong direction, but also gave to this branch of musical art a sound and solid basis, which his successors could and did build upon successfully.” Although resident for the larger portion of his life in the palace of Cardinal Ottoboni, at Rome, and buried with almost princely honors, there is every reason to believe that Corelli’s end was hastened by the failure of his visit to Naples in 1708, where the courtesy of Alessandro Scarlatti could not prevent his limited technique from becoming apparent to the Neapolitan cogniscenti, and also by the fact that upon his return to Rome he found his place as a popular violinist usurped by a performer technically and artistically his inferior.

Spohr, Violin Virtuoso Composer Living in an entirely different age, and possessing a musical equipment infinitely superior to that enjoyed by Corelli, but a mental attitude by no means dissimilar, was Louis Spohr (1784-1859). To the ordinary reader his is known as the composer of the symphonies “The Consecreation of Sound”, the “Historical”, and the “Seasons”; of the oratorios, “The Last Judgment”, “Calvary”, and “The Fall of Babylon”; and of the opera “Faust”, afterwards eclipsed by Gounod’s more popular and modern treatment of the same subject. But as a teacher of the violin and a performer upon it, Spohr, in his day, was unequalled. Indeed, to quote Paul David again, “as an executant he counts amongst the greatest of all times.” His compositions at the time of their production were considered the ne plus ultra of difficulty; while, as a conductor, Spohr will always be remembered as the man who, by his first regular use of the baton, revolutionized the art of conducting throughout the whole of musical Europe.

Spohr has also been credited with the invention of the chin rest; and even if this claim cannot be substantiated, both in his violin school and elsewhere he was one of the first to advocate the employment of this convenience. Purcell and the Organ Transferring our attention from the violin to the king of keyboard instruments, the organ, it is well to remember that Henry Purcell (1658-1695), the greatest composer of his age, was no mean performer upon the English organ of his day, which instrument, although possessing several manuals and some variety of stops, lacked the modern compass and was practically destitute of a pedal clavier. Purcell’s facility on this type of organ, which called for a special style of playing, is sufficiently indicated by the fact that, in 1680, Dr. John Blow, his former teacher, is said to have resigned his position as organist of Westminster Abbey in Purcells’ favor, returning and holding it for several years after Purcell’s untimely death.

In 1684, Purcell, as one of the most distinguished organists of his age, was engaged by “Father” Smith, the celebrated organ builder, to show off the powers and possibilities of his organ recently erected in the Temple Church, in opposition to another instrument erected in the same building by a rival builder, Renatus Harris. The contest, know in history as “The Battle of Organs”, eventually terminated in Smith’s favor, to which result the brilliant playing of Purcell must have contributed to no small extent. These facts, selected from many which might be mentioned, should prevent us from forgetting Purcell, the organist, while rightly recognizing Purcell, the composer. Nor is even the greatest contrapuntist of all ages – Johann Sebastian Bach (1685-1750) – altogether free from misunderstanding with reference to his principal instruments. Of course, the first of these was the organ, “whose powers he developed to the utmost extent possible”, and for which, during his Weimar period (1708-1717), he wrote some of his finest works.

From 1717 to 1723, while at Cothen, the organ is less prominent; but from 1723 to his death, while Cantor of the St. Thomas School, at Leipsic, he returned to his first love both as regards performance and composition, this being the period to which we owe the publication and most probably the production of those unrivalled compositions, the St. Ann’s, the B minor, and the great E minor Preludes and Fugues. Of keyboard instruments of percussion, Bach’s favorite was the more expressive clavichord, in which the string was pressed by a wooden tangent, and not plucked by a “jack” or quill, as in the case of the harpsichord. But in style and treatment, many of Bach’s clavier compositions suggest the harpsichord rather than the clavichord. His technique was unsuited to the piano; and this, coupled with the manifest and manifold imperfections of such earlier specimens of the instrument as he encountered in his later years, may have led to his being credited with the remark that there were only two beings who could construct a piano – its maker or the devil.

Bach was also a skillful violinist, and the favorite instrument of his later years was the viola, because, says Forkel, is placed him “in the middle of the harmony, whence he could best hear and enjoy it on both sides.” With an allegiance almost equally divided between the organ and the harpsichord, the former instrument must, we think, be accepted as the principal instrument of George Frederick Handel (1685-1759). That he was the absolute master of such imperfect organs as existed in England in his day is proved by the past and present popularity of his Organ Concertos which he inserted between the acts of his oratorios from about 1733 onwards, and which, according to Dr. Burney, were the favorite food for performers on keyboard instruments for more than thirty years. As Victor Schoelcher says, Handel “continued to play concertos upon the organ, at every performance of an oratorio, to the end of his life. He generally gave them at the beginning of an act, but sometimes he introduced them even in the middle of the performance.

In several of his manuscripts may be found, written with pencil, after an air or chorus, ‘Segue il concerto per l’organo’ (Here the concerto on the organ).” In these concertos Handel often introduced an exempore cadenza. Thus, in the second movement of his Concerto in D minor, the 4th of the 2d set, we have no less than six passages in which, over the rest or pause in the orchestral parts, are written the words organo ad libitum, a direction to the player (in this case Handel himself) to extemporize at discretion. Some idea of this extempore playing may be gathered from an account of his performance at Oxford, in 1733, on the occasion of his receiving a doctor’s degree from that university. Festing, the violinist, and Dr. Arne, the composer, both of whom were amongst the audience, assured Dr. Burney, the historian, that “neither themselves nor anyone else of their acquaintance had ever before heard such extempore or such premeditated playing on that or any other instrument”.

As Sir John Hawkins put it: “His amazing command of the instrument, the fullness of his harmony, the grandeur and dignity of his style, the copiousness of his imagination and the fertility of his invention were qualities that absorbed every inferior attainment.” And this on an organ practically destitute of a pedal board and of almost every modern contrivance or convenience! For performance upon the modern organ, Handel’s concertos have been rendered available, in a manner at once masterly and musicianly, through the arrangements of the late Mr. W.T. Best (1826-1897), the first organist of St. George’s Hall, Liverpool, and the greatest organ virtuoso of his or any subsequent time. Mr. Best has also enriched these Concertos with some fine original cadenzas of his own, which he played at some of his public performances of these works at the Handel Festivals, at the Crystal Palace, London. Mendelssohn, Pianist and Organist Although one of the most cosmopolitan of composers, as a performer Mendelssohn was distinguished only upon the piano and organ.

concerning his organ playing, old Karl Haupt (1810-1891), the Prussian organ virtuoso, is said to have been fond of relating, to the accompaniment of sundry pinches of snuff, that Mendelssohn’s fondness for Bach’s little E minor Prelude and Fugue was due to the fact that that composition was comparatively easy and, therefore, not beyond the limitations of his technique. This, however, is an unwarrantable insinuation. As. Mr. Cuthbert Hadden once wrote, the little E minor was a great favorite amongst eminent organists (e.g., W. T. Best), whose technical attainments were far in advance of those of Haupt and his school. Further, the facts of history are all dead against Haupt’s rash assertion. For instance, on September 10, 1837, when in London, Mendelssohn undertook to play the postlude at a service in St. Paul’s Cathedral, but, as Mr. F. G. Edwards remarks, “instead of playing the people out Mendelssohn kept them in”.

Despairing of clearing the Cathedral by any legitimate means, the vergers ordered the blowers to desist, and so the wind went out, as it happened, just before the final entry of the pedals in Bach’s great A minor Fugue. Two days afterwards Mendelssohn played at Christ Church, Newgate Street; and here, although as Sir George Grove remarks, “the touch of the organ was both deep and heavy, yet he threw off arpeggios as if he were at a piano. His command of the pedal clavier was also a subject of much remark.” On this occasion there was present old Samuel Wesley (the son of Charles Wesley, the poet, and the father of Samuel Sebastian Wesley, the celebrated English cathedral organist and church composer). At Wesley’s request Mendelssohn played six extempore fantasias on a subject given by Wesley at the moment and also played several of Bach’s more important works. During the performance Wesley turned to his daughter and remarked, “This is transcendent playing”. Of Mendelssohn’s other performances on English organs we can mention only a few, amongst them that of June 12, 1842, when he played the outgoing voluntary at St.

Peter’s, Cornhill, London, on the fist CC organ erected in England, “taking as his theme the hymn tune which had just been sung, upon which he extemporized for half an hour in a most masterly manner, winding up with a fully developed fugue. Two days later, at Christ Church, Newgate Street, he took the same theme (by request) and treated it extempore, with consummate variety and skill, in a totally different way, to the delight of his enchanted hearers.” On June 17th he played Bach’s Prelude and Fugue in E flat (St. Ann’s), also “an extempore introduction and variations on Handel’s so called Harmonious Blacksmith, ending with a fugue on the same theme.” This at a concert of the Sacred Harmonic Society at Exeter Hall. These performances were no fraud. They were given in the presence of some of the finest English organists and composers. And they were such as could have been given only by an organist of first rate technical and artistic equipment. Equally conclusive is the evidence concerning the excellence of Mendelssohn’s pianoforte playing.

We can only sum it up by saying that while free from all display and trickery, it was characterized by firm and brilliant technic, together with splendid tone, combined with great command of light and shade, as well as of perfect phrasing. One of his pupils, Mr. W. S.

Rochstro, declares that “though lightness of touch and a delicious liquid pearliness of tone were prominent characteristics, yet his power in fortes was immense”, so much so that on some occasions “It seemed as if the band had quite enough to do to work up to the chord he played.” At another time, says the same authority, although the “delicacy of his piano was perfect, yet every note penetrated to the remotest corner of the room.” Clementi’s Pupils Retracing our steps chronologically, we ought not to overlook the justly termed “father of pianoforte playing” Muzio Clemeni (1752-1832), that “grand old man” of pianoforte music, whose sonatas far surpass those of Haydn and many of Mozart’s, who – born when Handel was alive – lived through the great classical period, and in his unjustly neglected works gave no evidence whatever of external aid or influence.

In 1776 he was brought to England by a cousin of Beckford, the author of Vathek; and after four years study at his patron’s English home, under whom it is not clear, took London by storm, toured every portion of musical Europe, leaving behind him a record of improvements and inventions in pianoforte playing and construction unrivalled in his day. As Mr. E. Dannreuther says, “Clementi may be regarded as the originator of the proper treatment of the modern pianoforte…His example as a player and a teacher (Field, Hummel, Cramer, Meyerbeer, etc., were amongst his pupils), together with his compositions have left a deep and indelible mark upon everything that pertains to the piano, both mechanically and spiritually. His nervous organization must have been highly strung. Indeed, the degree of nervous power and muscular endurance required for the proper execution of some of his long passages of diatonic octaves is prodigious and remains a task of almost insuperable difficulty to a virtuoso of today”.

This is in exact conformity with a statement made by the anonymous editor of the Dictionary of Musical Biography, published in London in 1814, to the effect that Clementi’s “fleetness of finger is such that he is able to execute running passages of octaves and sixths with as much facility as the generality of musicians can play the single notes”. In conclusion, it is interesting to note that Clementi was the first to introduce the technical device of holding down one or more keys while another key is repeated by another finger. Meyerbeer, already mentioned as one of Clementi’s pupils, is now chiefly remembered by his operas. But he was primarily intended for the career of a pianoforte virtuoso; and Moscheles, who heard him in 1814, declared that, had he continued along those lines, he would have been almost without a European competitor. So great were his powers of execution that he could read at sight the most complicated orchestral scores with unfailing accuracy. His fellow pupil under Vogler, Carl Maria von Weber, is another musician who will be remembered by his operatic works rather than by his keyboard performances.

Yet, like Meyerbeer, Weber was a passable organist, and as a pianist one of the greatest and most original of his time, possessing long flexible fingers to which came so easily the extensions to be found so frequently in his pianoforte works. Sterndale Bennett at the Piano Second only to Mendelssohn in the charm of his compositions, and perhaps superior to him in the art of pianoforte playing was Sir William Sterndale Bennett (1816-1875). As a youth, in 1831, he played Hummel’s concerto in A flat at a concert of the Royal Academy of Music, in London, in a manner which “took everybody by surprise”. Some injudicious friends at once styled him the English Hummel, to the great annoyance of a fellow student, afterwards Sir George Macfarren, who opined that Bennett “had done quite well enough to deserve the use of his own name”. John Field, the inventor of the Nocturne, another of Clementi’s pupils, was present, and said, “That little fellow knows what he is about”.

The pianoforte playing thus auspiciously commenced, was continued until 1856, after which Bennett entirely ceased public playing. Concerning the latter, Davison, the great critic, said: “No such legato playing has been hears since the days of Dussek and Cramer.” The same authority once declared that “Bennett’s un-wearying industry as a young man, over minute details, was one of the secrets of the individuality of his playing”: and that “the result alone was sufficient to differentiate him from many eminent pianists of his time.” Ferdinand Hiller spoke of his playing as “perfect in mechanism, and, while remarkable for an extraordinary delicacy of nuance, full of soul and fire”; Mendelssohn, in 1837, declared his performance to be the talk of Leipsic; the Musical Examiner of 1844 asserted that as a pianist he had “no superior and but few rivals”; Piatti spoke of his “fine, crisp, diamond like touch”; Schumann, in 1838, said that he and Mendelssohn “play the pianoforte like angels, and with no more assumption than children”; while Mr. W.

Shakespeare, hearing him after his retirement, noticed that he still possessed “a remarkable firmness of touch, splendid accent, wonderfully clear technic, and a style of phrasing as pure and fastidious as his own music”. With all these encomiums, it is no wonder that – as his own son and biographer remarks – “regret would naturally come that in the fullness of his powers, Bennett should have discarded, to so great an extent, that branch of his muscianship on which his individuality was so clearly pronounced.” Composers San Instruments In order to say something on the negative side of our subject, we ought to refer to this celebrated French symphonist, Hector Berlioz (1803-1869), a man who, like Richard Wagner, had no “particular instrument”.

Only Wagner could play the piano “indifferently well”, whereas Berlioz, when on his Russian tour of 1847, informed the wife of one of the court functionaries (who had refused him the only available hall for his concerts because the Frenchman would not undertake to perform at one of the gatherings of the nobility) that “he could at one time play very well on the flagolet, flute and guitar,” but that of these instruments he had “not touched one for 25 years”. Berlioz then sarcastically suggested that if the Marshall, “a respectable old fellow of eighty”, would be satisfied with a solo on the drum, he (Berlioz) might appear to greater advantage. He secured the hall – not by his sarcasm, but by the intervention of a friend. Similarly, at Breslau, he had great difficulty in persuading a fond parent, anxious for him to give his son some violin lessons, that he did not play the violin, but caused it to be played.

The father had never heard of a conductor, and only after attendance at one of Berlioz’s concerts could he understand “a musician presenting himself in public without being an executant.” We must now close this lengthy, but all to inadequate, survey by remarking that in the study of musical history, as well as in the correct placing of any musician, it is only just and fair to endeavor to realize every department of that musician’s activities; and not to allow the chief things in a composer’s career or performances to blind us to some lesser enterprises or endeavors which, if not so strongly in evidence, are by no means unimportant. To lose sight of these, or to ignore them altogether, would be an incomplete and one sided method of study or estimation.

The whole is, of course, greater than its part; but the whole is made up of parts, and as Carlyle says, the artists and not the Artisans in History are the men “who inform and ennoble the humblest department with an idea of the whole, and habitually know that only in the whole is the partial to be truly discerned.” The desire we have for the presentation of the whole truth concerning a composer’s powers and activities is at once our only apology for this paper and our only desire for its appreciation. Mozart Operas: 10 Of The Best - Classic FM Classic FM Recently Added Mozart Guides Now Playing Schedule Mozart Operas: 10 Of The Best When the Canadian pianist Glenn Gould pronounced that Mozart ‘was a bad composer who died too late rather than too early’, he did so at a time when the great man was worshipped with almost holy reverence. More recent efforts to separate the Mozart myth from reality have, if anything, underlined the genius of a creative artist who understood humanity in its infinite variety and was able to translate that understanding into music of profound invention. His finest stage works stand comparison to those of Shakespeare.

He crafted new vocal pieces with specific singers in mind, accepting their strengths and weaknesses as significant shaping forces in the act of composition. Mozart assimilated the essence of the existing models of music for stage and church, and raised them to new heights of inspiration. His early Italian operas and pieces for the German-speaking theatre rarely challenge existing conventions, but they set the ground for the mould-breaking works of his later years. Likewise, his Salzburg masses paved the way for the great sacred pieces of his Vienna years, the C minor Mass and Requiem among them. In 1780, Mozart was asked to write a serious opera for the Munich court, a huge boost for an ambitious composer saddled with the duties of cathedral organist in Salzburg. Idomeneo only emerged during the scheduled rehearsal period. Mozart worked wonders with a duff libretto, editing it into dramatic shape and stepping beyond the bounds of Italian opera seria to explore aspects of character and emotional extremes. Five years later, the composer revolutionised Italian comic opera with The Marriage of Figaro, his first collaboration with a great librettist, Lorenzo da Ponte.

The plot’s wild doings are balanced against a score of great formal balance and musical logic, allowing Mozart to span everything from the absurd to the sublime in music that perfectly complements da Ponte’s onstage business. Two further da Ponte operas, and final masterpieces The Magic Flute and The Requiem contain everything necessary to contradict Glenn Gould’s perverse judgement on Mozart. Idomeneo Although Mozart complained of problems with Idomeneo’s first cast (describing the ageing Anton Raaff as being ‘like a statue’ in the title role), he created a breakthrough work. Loosening the strict formal conventions of opera seria, he reaches deep into the emotions of his mythical characters. Period instruments and wholehearted choral singing add bite to John Eliot Gardiner’s intense, characterful recording. DG 431 6742 Don Giovanni Da Ponte’s playboy exploits were ideal qualifications for his retelling of the yarn of Don Juan. Morally ambivalent, the opera presents the philandering nobleman of the title as both villain and hero. But in the end, he descends to hell while the remaining cast of cowards, rape victims and the violently bereaved live happily ever after.

Carlo Maria Giulini’s classic 1959 recording features premier-league singing and revelatory conducting. EMI Classics 567 8692 Così fan Tutte Two soldiers, Ferrando and Guglielmo, bet that their girlfriends will always be faithful; philosopher Don Alfonso persuades them he can prove otherwise. So, in ridiculous disguises, the military men seek to trick Fiordiligi and Dorabella. Mozart explores the sincerity and hypocrisy of human relationships in his third and final da Ponte opera, the results of which are interpreted with unrestrained delight by Georg Solti, Renée Fleming and co. Decca 444 1742 Die Entführung aus dem Serail Some 99 years after the defeat of the Ottoman army at Vienna’s gates, Mozart composed a singspiel using the by now amusing stock characters of the Turkish pasha, his courtiers and harem. It was Die Entführung that inspired Emperor Joseph II’s alleged remark: ‘Too many notes, my dear Mozart.’ His opinion might have been different had he heard Charles Mackerras’s inspired reading of Mozart’s score.

Telarc CD-80544 Mass in C Minor, K427 (K417a) As with his Requiem, Mozart never finished the longest of his 18 Latin Mass settings. The C minor Mass, first performed in Salzburg in October 1783, reflects Mozart’s discovery and assimilation of music by Bach, introducing ‘operatic’ arias into the rich musical mix. Nikolaus Harnoncourt spotlights the work’s arresting clash of old and new musical cultures in a compelling performance. Warner Classics 2564 62337-2 The Marriage of Figaro For many, this is the greatest opera ever written. The 29-year-old Mozart struck gold here, setting da Ponte’s words to music of profound humanity. Based on Beaumarchais’s play, the opera uses comedy and pathos to highlight aristocratic power, a hot topic on the eve of the French Revolution. René Jacobs conjures up a gripping performance, with spot-on casting and great sound.

Harmonia Mundi HMC 901818.20 Ave Verum Corpus, K618 This short motet, exquisitely tender and unashamedly devout, was written in June 1791 during a visit to the spa at Baden, near Vienna, where Constanze was ‘taking the cure’. Anton Stoll, Baden’s choirmaster and a close friend of the Mozarts, asked the composer to provide a short piece for the Sunday following the feast of Corpus Christi. Rich singing from the Leipzig Radio Choir and effortless phrasing distinguish Peter Schreier’s recording. Philips Classics 464 7202 Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart | The Life and Works of a Musical Genius Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart - Life and Works of a Musical Genius Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart was an Austria composer –one of the greatest in music history. Even though he died before his 36th birthday, Mozart created more than 600 works. He was born on January 27, 1756 in Salzburg. His father, Leopold was a composer , violin teacher and the leader of a local orchestra .

Young Wolfgang started playing the harpsichord at the age of three. He composed his own piano pieces at five, his first symphonies when he reached nine and whole operas at the age of 12. Wolfgang never went to school. His father taught him languages , geography and history, maths and, of course, music. Mozart came from a loving family. He loved to play duets with his older sister and he was very close to his mother. His father guided him through all stages in his life, taught him how to deal with money and people, and how to behave in society . Leopold took his son with him on many concert tours through Europe, where he performed before kings, queens and noblemen of other countries. He also gave public performances and met many other musicians. When he came back to Salzburg, Mozart started working for the archbishop . However, he didn’t really become happy in Salzburg. He wasn’t paid very much and the archbishops didn’t care very much about music. In 1781 Mozart left Salzburg and went to Vienna, a town where music was very important. Here he gave piano lessons and conducted his own works.

He got jobs from all kinds of people, but he didn’t become rich. A year before coming to Vienna Mozart married Constanze Weber. Although he worked very hard, Wolfgang couldn’t raise enough money to live with his family. His health started getting poorer and on December 5, 1791 he died, probably of kidney failure . Mozart’s music Mozart was a musical genius . Most of his works became well-known after his death and today, people of all age groups enjoy Mozart’s light and rhythmic style. The composer wrote just about every kind of music that was popular in his time. He wrote over 40 symphonies. Some of them were only overtures for operas and lasted only a few minutes, but others are works that consist of 4 movements and last for half an hour. His last and most famous symphony, Nr. 41, is nicknamed the Jupiter. Many of his 22 operas have become famous all over the world. The Marriage of Figaro (1786) and Don Giovanni (1787) are operas that Mozart composed with Italian words. The Magic Flute is probably his best-known German opera.

Wolfgang also created music that was played at masses in church—mostly in Salzburg. The main musical instrument of these compositions is the organ. His best known piece of work is the Requiem (Mass for the Dead) which he began in 1791 but couldn’t finish before his death. Mozart also composed lighter pieces of music called serenades, which were played at outdoor concerts. One of the most famous is “A Little Night Music”. Throughout his life , Mozart concentrated on music for one or two instruments. He was fond of writing string quartets for two violins, a viola and a cello. He also composed sonatas for solo instruments , like the piano, violin and the flute . Mozart’s style Most of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart’s works are cheerful and full of life. He was a person with a sense of humour and he liked to laugh a lot and joke around. Apart from lighter music, Mozart produced serious works that can be found in his late concertos and symphonies. After his death a German music lover, Ludwig Köchel, collected and numbered all of Mozart’s works. This catalogue is known as the Köchelverzeichnis.

archbishop = the highest priest of a country behave = act care about = if you think that something is important cheerful = happy close = if you like somebody very much compose = to write music composer = someone who writes music compositions = works concentrate =focus on, think very much about conduct = to stand in front of musicians or singers and direct them consist of =to be made up of create = make deal with =to be able to work with or handle something guide = to lead enjoy = like flute = a musical instrument like a thin pipe. You hold it across your lips, blow air into it and press buttons to make a sound. fond of = to like a lot genius = a person who is very , very intelligent or can do something much better than others harpsichord = an instrument like a small piano. It was used up to the 18th century. kidney failure = one of the two organs in your back that separates waste products from your blood and makes urine . If one these organs do not work any more we call it a failure.

language =the system of communication that a country has local = a place near your home or in your neighbourhood loving = to show you love somebody mass = a ceremony in church movement = one part of a longer piece of music. A symphony usually has 4 movements nickname = a name that is given to something noblemen =a member of the highest class, usually with a title overture = a short piece of music that comes before a longer piece perform = to play music in front of people popular = if lots of people like something public performance =to play in front of people raise money = to earn money so that you can live sense of humour = to understand things that are funny serious = music that is not so cheerful and light society =people in general Mozarts favorite instrument? - Find Answers Here! Mozarts favorite instrument? We found this answers Mozart - Piano and Violin ... and optional cello. This last instrument, however, doesn\’t have its own melodic line, ... Follow “My Favorite Sheet ... - Read more Download free Mozart music, Mp3 files, sheet music of some of the best of Mozart's music, with viola and other instruments, or with interesting viola parts - Read more Discussion about this question

Question: What was Mozart's favourite instrument?
Answer: Viola